


Not Particularly Kind of You

by victoriousscarf



Category: The Hobbit (2012)
Genre: Fili has a Fiddle, M/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-22
Updated: 2013-06-30
Packaged: 2017-12-06 03:58:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/731223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/victoriousscarf/pseuds/victoriousscarf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fili loved playing the fiddle. He liked the rise and fall of the music, the feel of wood and strings under his fingers and chin.</p><p>But he was especially coming to enjoy the slightly glazed look in Bofur’s eyes when he played too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Don't Do Things by Half

Fili loved playing the fiddle. He liked the rise and fall of the music, the feel of wood and strings under his fingers and chin.

But he was especially coming to enjoy the slightly glazed look in Bofur’s eyes when he played too.

At first it had brought him up short, as he did not often have a reason to be in the miner and occasional toymaker’s company. More often than not, he also only played the fiddle in his brother’s company, the two of them working together and sometimes in competition with each other.

So when the miner started frequenting the same tavern they would sometimes play at to amuse themselves and because they liked the cheers of the patrons, Fili had actually assumed for a jealous moment that Bofur had been staring at his brother. Which, perhaps would not have been the end of everything and if it had been the case he might well have supported Kili to their uncle, yet he was more than pleased when he realized that was not the case.

Because it became very obvious that Bofur was watching him, especially on the night that the brothers decided, just to see what would happen, if they played separately for a while.

Though Kili laughed at him about it, it certainly proved exactly who Bofur was watching. “Thorin will pitch a fit,” Kili said, leaning against his shoulder.

“It’s just a—“ Fili started to protest.

“Fili, you don’t do things by half,” his brother said, knocking their shoulders together and shaking his head. “You never have. Admit that to yourself now and it’ll be easier for you down the road.”

“You’re a pest,” Fili muttered, without any venom behind it.

Kili laughed, eyes glittering in the firelight before clambering over the bench and blowing Fili a kiss as he retreated. “Good luck,” he called over his shoulder.

Barely not rolling his eyes, Fili considered and almost rose himself except that suddenly Bofur was across the table from him. “Do you have any idea what you do?” Bofur asked.

Blinking at him once, and making sure he wasn’t misunderstanding, Fili laughed, braids falling around his face before he met Bofur’s gaze. “Entirely,” he replied with a smirk and Bofur just stared at him before shaking his head to refocus.

“It’s not particularly kind of you,” he pointed out.

“That’s not something I’m often accused of,” Fili replied and Bofur tilted his head, hat firmly placed.

“Only by people who don’t watch you,” he said.

“And yourself,” Fili pointed out and rose, Bofur trailing after him.

“Where are you going?” he asked, accent clear in his voice and Fili turned, liking the lilt of Bofur’s voice almost as much as he liked the rise and fall of the music his fiddle made.

“Well, if you’re intending to kiss me,” Fili said and smirked at Bofur’s wide eyes. “Which, you had better be, by the way, then it seemed prudent to not be in the middle of the tavern.”

Now outside with no one else in the area, Bofur looked around before his eyes came back to Fili and he matched the grin the blond wore. “Aye, that would be wise,” he agreed before they both moved forward at the same time, Bofur’s hands sliding into his braids. Grinning into the kiss, Fili pulled back.

“So I should play you the fiddle more?”

“Your hands,” Bofur protested and slammed their mouths back together, covering Fili’s laugh.

Which only made Fili more determined to play for him once they were in private, and see how long that lasted. 


	2. Fairly Certain He had No Intent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Due to some amazing reviewers (ManhattanMom, Meddalarksen and ThornyHedge in particular) this thing continues.

It had maybe taken Fili running his fingers across the fiddle bow and down the neck before Bofur plucked the instrument from him hands and as carefully as Fili could have wished set it aside.

Before he could teasingly remind Bofur he had been the one to ask for a private concert—except Fili couldn’t be sure of that because the entire night was starting to blur in his memory—he found himself with an armful of the other, Bofur pressing against him and slamming their mouths together.

Bofur’s hands went back to his braids, tangling in the mess of them and tugging them back, causing Fili to groan, leaning his head backwards. “You’ve been watching me,” he rasped and Bofur laughed, the sound filling Fili’s ears as the older dwarf pressed an open mouthed kiss to his cheek, dragging it along to his ear.

Hissing, Fili started tugging at the ties of his shirt as Bofur drew back enough to speak. “Course I’ve been watching you. You and your brother seem to like being watched, princes and performers and entirely sure of yourselves.”

That startled a soft laugh out of Fili as he continued working on ties. “It’s been at least several months,” Fili said and this was the longest conversation the two of them had ever held. They knew of each other, and had seen each other for years in the Blue Mountains, a provincial town compared to what Erebor had been, or what Fili had been told Erebor had been.

“You’re very watchable,” Bofur repeated and their mouths found each other again, Bofur’s hands finally leaving Fili’s hair to pull his outer vest off and then the shirts underneath, peeling away layers with Fili’s eager help.

The entire night was filled with eagerness, soft words murmured between them and laughter filling up the spaces between their bodies that was replaced quickly enough with passion and gasps.

But for as long as Fili had been watching Bofur  and so long as Bofur had been watching him, Fili fully expected them to part in the morning and dwell no more on it. His very bones felt sated when he sat down to breakfast with Kili, Bofur having already left for the mines before he’d been fully awake.

For a long moment there wasn’t a sound except utensils moving, the two of them eating at ease with each other. “Last night seemed to work out for you,” Kili remarked and Fili looked over at him without raising his head.

“Do you have anything else to add?” he asked, arching his brows and Kili grinned.

“Just trying to make sure I understand what’s going on in your head,” Kili said, twirling his fork around in the air in front of his face, Fili watching the movement.

“Not much,” Fili admitted after moment. “It was nice. He’s nice enough. Kinder and with more humor certainly than most who live here. It’s nothing beyond that. I don’t love him and I’m sure enough it was probably only one night.”

Kili gave him a look and then shrugged, as if accepting that explanation.

Except that did not turn out to be true in the least, as Fili started to realize. Because he found himself thinking about Bofur even when not playing the fiddle, or when Bofur did not walk into the tavern. He thought about him when he worked at the forge, wondering idly if Bofur had been the one to tear these metals and gems out of the earth itself that Fili now worked to shape.

One night some time later, he plucked at his fiddle in boredom thinking about Bofur’s smile, his laugh, the warmth of his body and realized slowly, and perhaps later than anyone else would have, that he missed the other dwarf.

Growing up under Thorin’s shadow, Fili had never meant to care for anyone. He had watched his uncle act wed to duty and believed he would follow in the same pathways. The dream of Erebor, the task of leading a people in exile had seemed what mattered most. He had Thorin, he had his mother and memories of his father and other uncle, and he had Kili. Those were the people that mattered most and he’d never actively thought to add to that number.

In fact, he was still fairly certain he had no intent to add Bofur to that number.

But he might have cared a bit more than he thought.

Which is how he once again ended up at the same tavern, only this time without his fiddle. Luckily—or perhaps unluckily in the long run—for him Bofur was there but the sight of him made Fili choke.

Coming up behind Bofur, Fili leaned over his shoulder, making the other dwarf startle. “I didn’t know you played the _flute_ ,” he hissed and Bofur grinned, turning around.

“You play the fiddle,” Bofur pointed out.

“Yeah but I’m not—” Fili protested and made a gesture instead of finishing, which only made Bofur grin more.

And that is exactly how Bofur ended up in his chambers a second time, without even the pretense of a private concert. 


	3. Can't Imagine Why

“Didn’t I tell you that you don’t do anything by half?” Kili asked as Bofur left. He’d finally started eating breakfast with the brothers, stroking Fili’s braids on the way out the door and Fili had to fight not to blush at what felt like an insanely intimate gesture.

“I think I told you that you were a pest,” Fili said, looking at the wood grain of the table.

“I thought you said you weren’t in love with him,” Kili replied, clearing the dishes and leaving his brother to see if the table could tell him any answers.

“I’m not,” he protested to the quiet and empty room.

The table had the decency to pretend to agree with him.

Except that every time he turned around now, there was Bofur, with a ready smile and occasionally his flute.  A few times they’d tried to play for each other, or in harmony and Fili wasn’t sure they’d ever find a way to pull that off. All he had to do was run his fingers down the fiddle’s bow or tuck it under his chin before it was pulled away from him, and all Bofur had to do was touch his mouth to the flute and Fili had more important things on his mind.

When Bofur showed up at the forge with a ruby that he had found in the mines, saying something about Fili making something out of it, Fili realized that he never had done things by half. Apparently not even affairs. Taking the ruby and cradling it in his hands, he glanced up at Bofur and wondered if they were both in deep or if it was just him.

But from the way Bofur smiled at him, he hoped it was both of them.

Thorin stopped by the forge the next week, watching him work the ruby into a gold setting, unsure what he really planned on doing with it. “It’s more ostentatious than usual,” Thorin said and Fili bit back the realization that Bofur made him feel ostentatious in ways being Thorin’s heir never had. The fact that Bofur held him like he might be a treasure, or watched him like he meant more than anything Erebor could ever have held.

“Yes,” he agreed.

They considered each other for a moment before Fili bent back over the forge. “Dwarves do not often have affairs,” Thorin said and Fili tried not to startle. “I would simply hope you are being careful. Whatever happens cannot detract from your duties.”

Fili considered him across the forge a long moment. “Of course not. I expected you to be more angry when you found out.”

Thorin blinked once himself, thick braids pushed back from his face. “I can’t imagine why.”

“You always seemed to scoff at romantic notions,” Fili said, looking down at the darkness and pain in Thorin’s eyes which he had never fully noticed before.

“Love is not quite a romantic notion,” Thorin said. “Those are foolhardy and dangerous. But love is not a notion. It’s rooted in our souls like the mountains are. I would only ask you to be careful.”

For the first time Fili wondered if the reason he had never seen his uncle in love was because it had happened and passed before he’d even been born. “I’ll be careful,” he said quietly instead of asking.

Later that night, Bofur stopped by, brushing grease off his forehead and putting his hat back on as he entered. Fili had banked the fires and was considering the embers when the other entered. “I’m not good at affairs,” he said and Bofur stopped short in some shock.

“Not many are,” he said, slowly, cautiously and the fear in his voice almost made Fili smile in joy. “Is that what you think this is?”

“No,” Fili said and Bofur was grinning at him. “As I said, I’ve never been good at them.”

“Well, you’re very good at this,” Bofur said and he wasn’t quite leering but Fili laughed and took Bofur’s hand when he held it out. “Almost as good as you play the fiddle.”

“One of these days you might let me finish a song again,” Fili said as Bofur wheeled him in against the other’s chest.

“Not unless we’re in public,” Bofur murmured. “And I have to let you.”

“Think of the reward you’ll get later,” Fili said with a grin and leaned his head back when Bofur bore down, sealing their mouths together. 


	4. I Wondered at First

It had never been difficult to notice Fili.

Bofur generally liked watching people. He liked understanding what they were doing, and why, and he liked watching people being happy, and even watching if they were sad and he might have a chance to cheer them up.  Maybe it was because he’d had to watch out for his brother and cousin so much, but he just liked paying attention.

Not that it was a chore to watch Fili. Everyone in the Blue Mountains knew of him, and who he was. Thorin was still their king, even in exile, and the prince had golden hair. It didn’t hurt that he had such an easy smile, ready to pull out his fiddle, and laughing with his brother.

Bofur might have adored him for ages before either of them spoke to each other.

It was perhaps more pathetic than he wanted to admit.

But exile or not, Fili was still the prince. He still stood shoulder to shoulder with Thorin, not as commanding as his uncle, not yet, but still broad shouldered like a mountain and strong in all the ways he needed to be.  And miners who carved toys were not the material that princes paid attention to.

Except that one day he saw Fili and it seemed like the prince was watching him.

Convincing himself that was insane Bofur turned his attention to ignoring such thoughts. Even though every time they ran into each other he only became more certain that Fili in fact was watching him. It was the worst when Fili and his brother played their fiddles. Watching the ways Fili’s hands moved up and down the fiddle, and the way that from time to time his eyes would flicker up and run into Bofur made his mouth go dry.

He was fairly certain he was losing his mind.

Except when he finally approached Fili, unsure what would possibly come of it, Fili had smirked and somehow he’d tumbled right into the prince’s bed. He didn’t sleep much that night, listening to Fili breath and trying to see if he could put the pieces back together of what exactly happened.

He left early and wondered if that was the end of it.

He hoped to Mahal it wasn’t but it was hardly his place to make the next move. Though, anyone else would have told him he’d long since forgotten what his place was and he didn’t care.

The days seemed to drag by and suddenly Fili was back and this time they didn’t let up and Bofur let himself hope this was something more. He got used to seeing Kili in the morning and going to the mines from the brother’s abode rather than his own.

It started to feel like it wasn’t an affair anymore and he dropped a ruby into Fili’s hands and ran away. He wasn’t sure what made him decide on a ruby of all jewels. Except the thought of it framed in gold and against Fili’s hair had made his breath catch and he wanted to see Fili wear it.

Which was a foolish notion.

But when he got back it appeared as if Fili had every notion to do exactly that, as he was forging the ruby into a bracelet that could be worn for ceremonial occasions and that alone made Bofur want to pin him against his own forge and kiss him until they couldn’t breathe anymore.

“I never considered this an affair,” he said quietly, later when he and Fili were bundled back into Fili’s bed, Fili’s nose pressed against his collar bone.

“That’s honest of you,” Fili said, voice sleepy.

Bofur laughed, feeling Fili’s mouth quirk up in response. “I like to think I’m an honest soul. Personally, I still can’t figure why this even started.”

“You kept staring at me,” Fili said, twining their fingers together and Bofur had to look down to see what that looked like, both their hands full of calluses.

“And that was enough?” Bofur asked and Fili laughed, shaking his head slightly.

“No, that wasn’t enough. But it made me notice you. Kili noticed it too, actually.”

“I’m glad you knew I was looking at you, in that case,” Bofur said and paused when Fili stilled before tilting his head back. “You didn’t, did you?”

“I wondered at first,” Fili admitted and Bofur closed his eyes, before laughing and shaking his head.

“It’s only ever been you that caught my eye,” he said, hand cupping Fili’s cheek and sliding back into his hair, where a few of his braids were still hanging on though all their clasps had been removed, and most of them had unraveled already.

Fili’s smile was bright even in the low light and Bofur had to kiss him again.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story was always to remain in a happy sort of pre-cannon land. (I've written enough tragic fics and frankly intend to do more so I needed something that remained adorably sappy through out).


End file.
